Nuance of a Nuisance
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: Malik is a DJ with an extremely popular radio program. The media doesn't know what he looks like, or even his real name. His DJing name? "Doctor Love." Mix in a trollcaller and two little kids, and it's a recipe for disaster.
1. Chapter 1

**I AM THE AU MASTAH. BOW BEFORE ME. XDDDDD I'm getting excited. I think I've got all the letters of the alphabet, AND I'm writing more AUs. They're fun to write because they're so different. Anyways, R&R? But I ain't begging.**

* * *

><p>"And that's all for tonight, idiots. Watch your backs, brush your teeth, go vote, and most importantly, don't bother me with your problems. From 25.1 ZIPX, this is Doctor Love signing off. RIP baby brother, and know I miss you."<p>

Malik watched the "On Air" sign flicker off, and he sighed. He hated his job: what started as a radio program at his college had climbed the ranks until he was the most popular man in the country. His buddies had told him he had a sexy voice, and he was wrangled into helping them with their show—about love and shit—to take his mind off the death of his brother. Now, he was on the air every night, raking in a ton of money, and he had paid off his debt to the college and the funeral home.

"Great job, Malik," his station manager said.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can I go home now?"

The man laughed. "Sure thing. See you tomorrow at ten."

He walked out of the shady looking building and began walking down the street.

"Here's your flower, mister."

He looked to the small girl standing there, holding a single purple flower from the park, her younger brother sucking his thumb and holding her hand. Their clothes were ragged and threadbare, and Malik often gave them quite a bit of cash for the flower she would "sell" to him every day. Malik smiled softly and ran his hand through her greasy hair.

"Thank you, Lucy. How's your mother?"

She looked at the sidewalk, and her brother stepped closer to her. He wasn't actually her brother, but an adopted homeless boy.

"She killed papa, then killed herself."

Malik was shocked. "What?"

"She told us to run so papa wouldn't beat us, and when we were returned, there was a gun in her hands and blood everywhere. We ran away, Dessie and me."

He stared at the two children. Desmond wasn't more than three, and Lucy wasn't more than seven. Malik surreptitiously glanced around the streets, and then he squatted down to their level.

"Where will you go now?"

Lucy shrugged. "I don't know, but you still need your flower, so we can't leave yet."

Malik frowned and looked at Desmond, who was watching him with big brown eyes. He had his thumb in his mouth and his hand tightly clasped by Lucy. The boy blinked as he watched the DJ. Malik offered his hand after clasping the flower gently between his teeth, and Desmond looked at it.

"Go on, take his hand. You know you can trust him, Dessie. He's been good to us."

Desmond continued to stare at the hand, and Lucy let go of his hand. He looked up at her, and she gestured to him again. Slowly, the boy reached out and took his hand.

"You got one arm."

Malik smiled again at the boy's words. "Do you want to come live with me?"

"What?"

He looked at Lucy and nodded. "I have to stop by Kadar's grave to give him your flower, but I'm sure he'd love to meet the young children I've talked about so much."

Lucy shook her head. "We couldn't. We'll go to the orphanage—"

Malik rose, scooping Desmond up with his arm. "No, you'll come with me. I don't like the orphanage here. We'll go shopping tomorrow for clothes, and we'll get you to a better school."

"And mommy?" Desmond said. "Lucy said she shoted herself."

"Don't worry about her."

Lucy hugged him tightly, and Malik felt himself smile, again. He'd have to watch it, or his reputation as a sourpuss would be spoiled. She clung tightly to his open side, and Desmond was holding the flower with his free hand. He walked with the children, asking no questions, until they arrived at a small graveyard. At a small gravestone sat a man, hunched over and silent. He ignored him as he sat next to him.

"Lucy, Desmond, meet my brother, Kadar. Kadar, this is the flower seller I told you about."

"Are you talking to the stone?" Lucy asked, sitting on half of his lap.

The man beside him watched the children closely. Desmond gently touched the stone after Malik took the flower. Those big brown eyes watched him as he set the flower in front of the grave. It looked out of place against the bouquets of flowers on either side of the marble stone.

"Who are you?" Lucy asked the other man.

"Altair."

"Why are you here?"

There was silence. After a little bit, Altair looked back at the headstone.

"He was the one who killed my brother and made me lose an arm."

Lucy was silent.

"Why friend?" Desmond asked, looking at the other man.

Malik scoffed. "That idiot is not my friend. I cannot forgive him after all he's taken from me."

"But think, Mister Al-Sayf, if he hadn't died, you wouldn't have met us," Lucy said.

Malik's eyes widened when he saw Lucy's hurt gaze. He pulled her into a tight hug, and halfway chuckled as his eyes watered when Desmond whined and begged to be included. He held them close, and he took a shaky breath. He had gotten so close to these two kids, having been buying a single purple flower for Kadar's grave every day for four years. He had listened to their every story about their mother stepping in the way of beatings meant for them, and given them hundreds of dollars (that was the price those pesky violets Kadar liked so much often went for from her, since she never had any change) from all of the violets. He had taken Lucy out for ice cream and bought Desmond spiffy light-up shoes. He had paid the mother's medical bills and mortgage. He had invested so much in them. There were some perks to being famous: money, for one.

He could almost hear Kadar laughing at him for getting so upset over his death, and he kissed each of the kids on the head. He could hear Kadar telling him not to be so down and depressed and to take care of the kids—he missed his brother's kind spirit sometimes. He held the kids close for several minutes before looking up to find Altair missing. He scowled and scooped Desmond up.

"Come: let's go home."

He guided them back to his house. It was a tiny place near his workstation in the heart of the city, but it had been built for him and Kadar. Now, it had been built for him and his two kids. With a sigh, he had Lucy fish out his keys and open the door. He had been lucky to have met the kids so young before the beatings could affect them too badly. She ran in, excited, and Desmond was content in his arm, those adorable, big brown eyes wide as he looked around, his thumb still stuck in his mouth. He smiled softly as he watched the blonde girl go running around, exploring every room.

After Desmond had squirmed from his arm and had tentatively started exploring, he herded them into the bathroom and watched as Lucy bathed her brother and herself, excited at the prospect of a warm shower with lavender soap. It had been Kadar's, and he had never had the strength to throw it away, but he felt as if these two may be the key for him to move forward. Leaving them to bathe—Lucy had made it quite clear she could clean herself and her brother—he made them dinner, the first one he had made in a long time.

Lucy was bouncing with excitement when the three sat down to eat, and by the time he had gotten them in the only bed in the house—a queen-sized one that was snugly fit against the wall in the tiny room—they were out cold. Desmond was tucked under his arm, and Lucy was lying across his chest.

For the first time since the death of his brother, he felt at home.

The next day, he arrived to the station three hours late to find the rush-in frantically trying to calm the flood of angry callers. Lucy and Desmond were dressed in Gymboree clothing. Desmond had a blue octopus shirt with blue plaid pants and a new pair of shark light-up shoes Malik had caught him eyeing at Payless, and Lucy had on a Batik print dress with flower sandals. Malik would have to watch himself: they were too much fun to spoil. They were amazed by the station.

Malik scowled when his manager came rushing up. "Where the Hell have you been, Malik?"

"You idiot, I bet you didn't check your cell phone, did you?"

The manager looked startled, then pulled his phone from his pocket and muttered, "What's up with the kids?"

"If you had half of the brains necessary to know to check your phone, you would know. Come on, Lucy, Desmond."

They followed him into the room, and the replacement looked relieved to see him.

"And just walking in is the Doctor himself. Here's your regular DJ, Doctor Love!"

He was at the speaker before he knew what was happening. Desmond was on one knee, and Lucy on the other. Leaning in, he spoke.

"Hello, all you assholes and idiots. This is Doctor Love of 25.1 ZIPX. Don't get your hopes up: I had one 'exciting' evening last night, so I'm not interested in listening to you. I've got two people here I want you to pay attention to. If you can't tell me their names by the time I start accepting calls, I'm hanging up."

He pulled the mike to Lucy.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," he said as he laughed quietly. "Go on, introduce yourself."

Lucy leaned up on the dashboard. "Hello?"

Malik nodded, and he smirked as his manager looked as if he might pull his hair out from straying from the script.

"Hello! I'm Lucy, and my brother's name is Dessie. He probably won't say much, so I'll tell you his name for you. I sell Doctor Love," she giggled, "his violet flowers from the park! After my mommy died protecting us yesterday, he adopted us. Say hello, Dessie!"

She coaxed him into pulling his thumb out long enough to talk.

"'M Desmond. Lucy calls me Dessie."

Malik kissed his head and leaned in again. "You heard it straight from their mouths. I'm now in charge of these two kiddos, and if you want me to listen to your call tonight, you dumbasses need to know their names—"

"Lucy and Dessie!" Lucy shouted into the microphone.

"to get even me to acknowledge you exist. And I know that your powers of retention are as wet as a warthog's butt, so I'm not expecting to answer many calls tonight. For now, enjoy some peaceful elevator music."

And sure enough, he switched on the most annoying elevator music he could find as he assembled a playlist for the next hour or so. Once he was done, he switched it off.

"And now for more exciting music. Why do I torture myself by playing that crap?"

He leaned back in his chair as his manager came storming in. "What the Hell, Malik?"

Malik gave him a passive glance. "My show, my rules. You wrote the contract, novice."

"Seriously? Your kids?"

He rolled his eyes. "Go make them a sandwich or something. Just get out."

The day passed quickly as he let the kids talk over the air and showed them the building. When five rolled around, he let them in as he stopped the music. "All right, unfortunately, it's that time of day again, where all of you suckers who have jobs now jam my phone line in futile hope I'll actually care enough to talk to you."

He flicked a few more switches.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked.

"I'm getting our first caller. Hello? This is Doctor Love from 25.1 ZIPX. Who is taking up my precious time now?"

"Hello, I'm Andrea—"

"Tell me you're a man."

"What? No, I'm not."

Malik sighed. "Okay then, Andrea, give me the passwords, and I'll give you advice."

"What? Passwords?"

"They were announced earlier."

"Yeah!" Lucy said. "I told you our names were Lucy and Dessie!"

Malik stared at the girl briefly before laughing quietly. It quickly turned into a belly laugh, and he struggled to get it under control. It had been years since he laughed like that. The phone line was silent as he ruffled Lucy's hair and kissed her head. She pouted and fixed it.

"Well, looks like you've been given a free card. What's the passwords?"

There was silence for a moment before a squeal was heard, and Desmond stuck his fingers in his ears. Malik sighed: this was a bad way to start the night.

"Oh, my, God! Did you seriously just laugh? That was the sexiest thing I have ever heard! Holy crap! Oh my God!"

Without a second thought, he hung up on her and picked up the second caller.

"Yo, this is Doctor Love. Mention the laugh, and I hang up, got it, idiot?"

"My name's Hector Caveniski. Your children, Lucy and Desmond, are adorable. I've been listening all day."

"I'm glad you think so. Otherwise, I'd have to find you, Hector Caveniski, and kill you."

"I never would have guessed you're a family man."

"Neither would I have. What's your damn problem?"

"Well, now that I know you can handle kids as well, I'm changing it a bit. My fiancé has two kids I take care of because her kidneys are failing. Her mother isn't fit to care for them, but if she dies before we're married—"

"The go ahead and fill out the papers to be married. It's not that hard, you idiot."

There was silence. "Down at the courthouse?"

"That's what I said, you idiot. You don't have to have the ceremony to get married."

"Can we meet up with him sometime?" Lucy asked. "I'll pick a violet for his girlfriend."

"Perhaps later, kiddo," Malik responded.

He could hear the smirk in the man's voice: "Well, Doctor Love has a soft spot for kids—"

He hung up without regret. The man was lucky they weren't face-to-face, or else he'd slug him. The night progressed with few hitches, and Lucy was having a grand old time bossing the others around when she assured Malik she had good advice. Desmond even spoke up a few times. It was his final caller that made him mad.

"Hello, this is—"

"Doctor Love, I know."

Malik frowned. "Then what's your problem, asshole?"

There was silence.

"Hello? Mister?" Lucy said. "It's rude to not answer a question."

There was a soft chuckle, and Malik's mouth dried. That laugh was gorgeous.

"I don't have a problem. I just wanted to call the infamous Doctor Love and tease him."

"I don't think so, novice," Malik spat.

"Come on, you're nothing more than a giant softie. You brought your kids onto your show. Aren't you a least concerned about all the cussing?"

Lucy huffed. "You should have heard some things mommy's boyfriend used to say."

"Oh really?" the man asked.

"You don't have a problem?" Malik growled.

"No, not reall—"

Malik hung up and leaned in. "Well, I'm afraid—"

"You shouldn't have hung up on him like that! What if he was lonely?" Lucy said, sounding concerned.

"People like that are out to cause trouble. They're called trolls."

"Like in the 'Three Billy Goats Gruff'?"

"Yes, and just as ugly as the troll in that."

Lucy made a disgusted sound.

"Well, that's all, finally. Looks like we're shutting down for the night, and I can finally go home and get away from you freaks. Remember: pray to your god, join a cult, do a rain dance, and most importantly, love your kids. They deserve it. This is Doctor Love from 25.1 ZIPX, signing off."

"And Lucy!"

"And Desmond…"

Malik smiled as the "On Air" sign flickered off.

He ignored the others as he walked out, letting Lucy say farewells. They walked out and down the street to the small park fifteen minutes away.

"I need a flower."

Lucy looked at him and beamed, running off to the small patches of green to find a wild violet to give him. As he watched her, he thought about how he had first seen her selling the flowers on the street corner, trying desperately to raise money. Malik had, at first, thought nothing of buying the small flower until he reached into his wallet and had her pull out the single bill he had: a twenty-dollar greenback. He let her keep it as he took the two violets he asked for to Kadar's grave.

Altair had been there then, and he was still there, every day, sitting quietly and saying nothing as Malik would tell his brother of the latest happenings. At first, Malik had been furious, but he learned to ignore him as the murderer kept the grave well-maintained and gifted it with fresh flower bouquets without a complaint. He didn't actually know anything except the facts that Altair had murdered his brother after drinking and driving, and that he hadn't touched alcohol since.

Soon, it had become tradition for Malik to buy a violet and give Lucy the biggest bill in his wallet. He had slowly gotten to know her and the fact that she lived nearby the park and that her father was abusive. Her mother always stepped between her and her father, and when Desmond joined the family, he started funding the family. He had never met the mother, and now here he was, planning to give the plot next to his brother to the woman who had protected hr kids.

He smiled when Lucy came running back, having found the perfect violet for him, and he nodded as he adjusted Desmond, who leaned against his chest and watched the passersby as they headed toward the cemetery. It was a small plot a couple of blocks from the park, and as they entered the gates, he saw Altair sitting there, his head hung as he rested his hands on his knees.

Lucy ran over and looked back as Malik walked over. He sat down and let her put the flower on the ground. Desmond was fast asleep in his arm. He gazed at the stone and the etched writing, almost smiling as Lucy started whispering to the grave so she wouldn't wake Desmond. She told him about how she starred in her first radio show and about the troll caller, and Malik would have sworn he saw Altair jerk at that story. The murderer spoke only a few words, but Malik thought it was interesting that Desmond woke and paid rapt attention to everything he said.

It was not until that night, after visiting Kadar's grave and wrangling Lucy into bed and curling in with Desmond, that he truly missed his left arm. It wasn't like before, where he missed it solely because he was limited by the fact he couldn't do things the same. This was a stomach-twisting, fist-clenching wave of depression.

He would never be able to hold both of the kids at the same time.

The next day, he brought a large folder full of legal documents into the radio station. Lucy was clinging to his open side with one hand, her other pulling Desmond along. He rolled his eyes when his manager insisted he find a babysitter, and he pushed past him to get to his station.

"Listen up, dumbasses," Malik growled into the mike, "my kids will be coming on here for a while to come, so you'd better get used to it. They're strong and healthy, and I'm stuck filling out all the damn paperwork for them, so you'd all better take a chill pill and shut up about my kids being here. I'm not wasting money on a babysitter if I have a perfectly good one here."

He flicked on the music and played several songs before he interrupted again.

"You know, I never realized how stupid the government was until I started filling out all this paperwork. I have to wonder just what they do with this. For example, these papers for Lucy's schooling, I bet they kill half the Amazon for these. Anyway, I'll be filing papers all day long, so stop bothering me with requests. I'm not listening—"

"I am!" Lucy said, and Malik chuckled.

He assembled a playlist and started playing it, leaning back to fill it all out. Lucy had a book and his old GameBoy Color special Pikachu edition. Desmond insisted on sitting in his lap, a stuffed tiger in his hands as he watched him fill out the papers. He shuffled through the day and the papers, sighing as he signed and signed and filled out and sent the interns running to get the children's information for him.

By the end of the third playlist, he had most of it done. By the time the call-ins were supposed to start, he had it done. The interns were having a blast playing with Lucy—Desmond seemed reluctant to do anything except sit in his lap, resting against his chest as he put away the papers. Desmond had taken a nap around noon after eating a cup of chicken noodle soup. Malik had to admit, he was enjoying having Desmond as a child. He flicked on the switches, swiveling the chair he was in so he could reach them without disturbing the boy, who was sucking his thumb as he watched Lucy in the other room.

"And now it's that unfortunate time where I have to sit and help you with your problems. This is Doctor Love, DJ of 25.1 ZIPX, here with my son, Desmond, to sit and give you the advice you need—advice that any idiot worth his salt would know. Who's the first caller?"

The phone picked up.

"Hi, my name is Torrie!"

The night passed with few difficulties and only two hang-ups. By the end of the night, Desmond was fading quickly. He listened as the line was answered.

"Hello, you've reached—"

"Doctor Love, my new best friend."

Desmond perked up at the sound of his voice, even going so far as to pull his thumb out and stare at the speaker. Malik frowned.

"Who are you?"

"I don't see why that matters."

"You just got the first reaction from my son all day. He's staring straight at the speaker."

"I feel loved. I don't see why you hate everybody so much."

He scowled. "Why should I be nice when there's so little to smile about? I make a living giving common sense to people, run a show where my listeners enjoy hearing people get called out on their common sense. I've lost my brother and arm to a drunk driver when I could be out doing something else with my life. I could be a doctor, a cartographer, or a history professor."

There was silence on the other line as he scowled at the speaker. Desmond eventually placed his hands on near the speaker and went to speak, but the caller beat him to it.

"You realize that you've just given yourself away. I have seen only one man with one arm and two kids."

Malik snarled. "Shut up, you damn idiot!"

"I hope the cameras get you, since your popularity is so wide."

"I hope the crows here get you, you arrogant asshole."

"Now, now, there's no need to get testy. People love you for your attitude."

Malik snarled and rose, near dropping Desmond. "You son of a bitch! You're lucky I can't find you, or I would rend you limb from limb!"

"Trust me," came the soft reply, "you would've done so before I ever called you."

He felt Desmond tug on his sleeve, and he looked at his child, who was staring at him with those huge brown eyes. He felt his anger vanish instantly, and he frowned.

"What?"

"Man at rock with letters."

"What?"

Malik studied him, and Desmond was watching him intensely, hugging the tiger close and sucking his thumb.

"Man at rock," he urged. "Sounds like the man at rock with letters."

"What?"

"I don't know. Your kid's gone crazy."

"Shut up, you asshole. I don't want another word from you."

He hung up, forgetting the speaker was still on. "Desmond, what are you talking about?"

"He is the man at the rock with letters," he repeated.

Malik was silent for a few minutes before he leaned into the mike. "This is Doctor Love of 25.1 ZIPX. Thanks to my personal troll, I may end up retiring. Remember: tip your waitresses well, keep your buddies' secrets, and don't be a troll."

Without waiting for his manager, Malik fled the station with his kids through the back door, panicking at the crowd all ready gathering in front of the main door. He skipped the park and ushered them to his house, feeling immediately guilty for skipping seeing Kadar.

"Why didn't we go see your brother?" Lucy said.

"I don't enjoy attention, and I have a feeling I will be the center of it for the next several weeks."

Malik hid well for the next couple of days, but eventually, his guilt and need of keeping a job forced him to go back to work. After dropping Lucy off at school, he walked with Desmond in his arm to the station, slipping in the back.

"Where the Hell have you been!" his manager screamed when he stepped in.

Malik frowned when Desmond covered his ears.

"We've been flooded with calls and visits to meet you ever since that guy sold out your name!"

He pushed past him and walked into the sound booth, holding Desmond tightly. "Don't let them in. Keep them out. I don't want my face known or my kids in danger."

"Goddamnit, don't you see this is the break you need to really hit the charts?"

Malik set Desmond down and slugged the manager, hard. "My show, my rules. You want me to keep your station famous: you do what I say. I'm one step away from calling it quits and moving the Hell away from here. I don't want the fame and glory. I did this because my college buddies needed a man to help them get a good grade, and I continued because someone needs to be the voice of reason for others. I'm in this to provide for my kids. If it were just me, I would have quit. Now get the Hell out of this sound booth, and keep the others the Hell away."

When he sat down and set Desmond in his lap again, he noticed the "On Air" sign was all ready lit up. He was in for it now. Desmond gave him a concerned look.

"What's wrong, daddy?"

Malik froze, staring at his boy. He felt Desmond tug at his sleeve, and he could do nothing but stare at him.

"Daddy?"

With a trembling hug, he whispered, "I'm worried for your sake and mine, Desmond. The world is full of idiots and crazy men like your father who want nothing more than to hurt you."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Desmond." He kissed Desmond's head. "But I'll be damned if I let some crazy mother fucker take you from me like that drunken murderer took my brother."

He took in a deep breath, trying to pause the tears briefly before he leaned into the mike. He voice was shaky. "Morning, assholes and crazies. This is Doctor Love of 25.1 ZIPX, reporting in after several days of lying low. I'm here for the long haul, ready to help more of you stupid people answer simple problems. We'll be taking requests as is usual from noon until three."

He wasn't surprised to hear police sirens outside later on that day. When he had settled down for lunch, he heard his manager enter the sound booth.

"You've got the news and media posted outside that door."

"I heard the police," Malik said flatly, opening a thermos of warmed vegetable and beef soup for Desmond.

"You oughta have more faith in the world, Malik."

"I have plenty of faith—faith that it's going to shit. It's trust I lack. Know the difference, idiot."

The manager was silent as Desmond munched on a hunk of beef. He was looking back and forth between the two men, holding his stuffed tiger closely as he ate.

"I'm not willing to risk, on a throw of the dice, these two incredible gifts I've been given to help me heal from the loss of Kadar and my arm."

"You've had them for only two days."

"I've known them and provided for them for far longer."

Malik ran a hand through Desmond's hair, and the young child looked at him curiously.

"I only want their safety."

He felt the manager pat his shoulder before walking out. Malik ate in blessed silence, dreading when the evening would come. Requests were one thing: they said the song, and he played it. Helping others was another. His manager picked up Lucy, and Malik greeted her with a hug. He couldn't help but worry.


	2. Chapter 2

Finally five o'clock rolled around, and he did his best to deflect all attention away from himself and back to the caller. It worked well, until his last call.

"Hello, this is—"

"The man I need to apologize to."

He went to hang up, but was stopped by Desmond's small hand on his arm. "Man from the rock with letters."

"I'm sorry I cornered you into giving away your identity. But, I think you should have a little more faith in the world."

"Faith?" he spat. "You lecture me on faith? I have plenty that this world is going to Hell in a hand basket. I have faith that once my picture is leaked, I'll have stalkers and all sorts of crazies on my ass—idiotic fans and nightmarish people."

There was silence for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I actually have a problem this time, if you're even willing to help me out."

"Heaven knows someone must. You've all ready ruined everything else. What is it? Don't waste any more of my time."

"Fine. I've met this man, and he doesn't know it that I'm calling in about him."

"Get on with it."

"I've all ready ruined his life once, and now I've done it again."

"Keep going, idiot. I don't have all day."

"And I've fallen in love with him."

Malik laughed bitterly. "I think you deserve it."

"I know, and every time I see him, all I can think about is how much I deserve what's happened to me."

Malik was silent for a bit. "How long ago was the second time you ruined his life?"

"He doesn't know it was me."

"Has he forgiven you for the first time?"

"I don't think so. I don't think he ever will—not that I deserve it."

Malik frowned. "Well, trollface, you've got me stumped. Give me some time to think on this one. I'm not sure if a relationship is even possible. The man would have to have the forgiveness of a saint."

"Okay."

Malik nodded.

"And don't worry: I'll troll you tomorrow, too."

Malik scowled. "Asshole."

And there was that beautiful laugh again before the line went dead. Malik was as flustered as he could get, but he held took the offered hoodie from an intern and pulled it on, covering his face. He had Desmond bury his face in the crook of his neck and had Lucy draw a cloak over her face. He'd have to rethink her school. They walked into the street, and he flinched at the sudden onslaught of flashes and questions. At least the police were keeping a ring around them.

Even Lucy whimpered and clutched closer to his side as Desmond squished the stuffed tiger between them. He let the police guide them into the car and drive them home. It felt like the entire world had shown up in hopes of getting a glimpse of the famous "Doctor Love." Malik never really understood his popularity: he spoke simply and used common sense. He followed a good set of morals and ethics (which didn't include not cursing) and only wanted to help others as he knew Kadar would've done. Neither of them would've cared for this fame.

He ushered them into the building. The news that night was chalk full of stories about the "mysterious Doctor Love and his hidden children," and he kept the TV off. He fixed them a meal and put them to bed, reading to them to get them to calm down and stop worrying about all the cameras. Neither one of his kids liked them. As he settled down after he thought they were asleep, he felt Lucy lean up and kiss his cheek.

"Night, daddy."

"Nigh-nigh, daddy."

He smiled for the first time in several days.

"Good night, kiddos."

It was several days later (and plenty of careful hiding) before he realized he'd just have to suck it up and give the media what they wanted. If he ignored them, they'd go away. He almost kicked himself at the thought—especially since he had sat and talked with his brother once about how if the celebrities would just stop caring, the media would be left "up the creek without a paddle" in the middle of piranha infested waters. Besides, it was the anniversary of Kadar's death, and he'd be damned if he let some picture-taking, frog-hopping toad scare him away from his brother. He called in that he'd be several hours late and packed a picnic lunch for him and his kids. When Lucy came stumbling out, she yawned and stared blearily at him.

"What are you doing?"

He paused in creating a turkey sandwich for his girl. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled before turning around and picking her up to set her on the counter.

"We're going out for a picnic at Kadar's grave."

She glanced out the window. "It's foggy and grey."

"I know, Lucy, but Kadar will be lonely today."

"Why?"

"It's been four years since he died. He was my only family here in America."

Lucy was silent as he pulled out two apples from the refrigerator. Finally, she said, "Dessie told me something yesterday while you were talking to Mister Trollface."

"Really now?" he said while grabbing a thermos.

After filling out the papers, he realized Desmond wasn't more than two and a half. He felt blessed to have such a complacent and quiet two year old.

"He said that Mister Trollface was the quiet guy at Kadar's grave."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he said it sounded just like him."

"And why didn't I realize this?"

Lucy pursed her lips briefly as she swung her legs against the cabinet doors. "Because you were afraid for us when you should've realized it."

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hm. You were panicking because you gave up your identity."

Malik stopped spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread and looked at his daughter, his eyebrows furrowing at what she said. She was staring at him, her head tilted and a determined look on her face.

"I think you should forgive him."

Malik startled, then turned aside to finish the sandwich. There was no incredible feeling of realization, just a horrible knot in the pit of his stomach and some residual anger as the details and phone calls clicked into place. "That is easier said than done, Lucy."

"I know. But, maybe he's really sorry. And lonely, just like you were before you got us."

When he had put the sandwich in the basket, he shook his head. "Then he should look elsewhere for company."

"But we like him!" Lucy shouted.

"Shush, Lucy: your brother's still asleep."

She clapped her hands over her mouth and fixed him with a stern frown-like pout.

"You should invite him over," she stage whispered.

"Really?"

"Yeah, and the camera people will give him lots of unwanted attention, too."

Malik could help but laugh. For a seven-year-old, she was crafty. "Tell me, Lucy, do you just want another person here?"

He glanced at her, and she blushed and looked out the window. "Maybe…"

"So you want another mommy?"

"No." came the quick response. "I don't want another mommy. My mommy was the best one, and now that she's with Kadar and we can visit her today, too, I want another daddy to replace my old daddy. I don't want someone to replace my mommy. I want lots of good daddies."

Malik blinked: he wasn't quite sure what to think of her request. Finally, "Am I not good enough?"

He almost kicked himself for saying that. She looked at him, her eyes wide, and he grimaced.

"No, no! I just mean: I don't want another mommy. But Mister Trollface seems like a good guy. I think you should forgive him so he can come live with us too."

"Why?"

"Because I want lots of daddies to replace my daddy. I want you, and I want Mister Trollface, and I want that man from yesterday who had the two kids, and I want the guy on the street who was kissing his wife. There are lots of good daddies out there. I want them all."

He found himself smiling and shaking his head at her. "So, you want Trollface to come live with us?"

"Yes."

"Does Desmond?"

"I don't know. I'll go ask him if he's awake."

He watched her hop down and walk off. Over the course of the past few days, he had come to enjoy the Troll's calls. He would bitch at the man and mercilessly tease him, and the man would quietly deflect it back at him. He had had a good time talking to him, and as the media continued to stalk him, it gave him something to look forward to.

He surprised himself, as he connected the dots, that despite this whirlwind of activity, he didn't feel anger. He felt almost cheated: he should be furious, like in the movies. He wasn't hurt and angry at the thought of the Troll. Time had taken its own course and soothed him.

He was still upset that Troll had been the one that caused all of this to happen, and he did feel slightly happier at the thought of dragging Troll into the media hype (although they were all ready having a field day with them), but he couldn't find it in him to hate him for everything he'd done. He sighed and leaned against the counter: Troll was a man, a man who made terrible decisions, but still just a man nonetheless. Perhaps this was why these two kids were here: to teach him how to forgive. He had realized, when he held the small funeral for their mother, that it was because of Troll that he had adopted the two kids, and he felt much less lonely now.

And, in all honesty, he hated to admit to himself, he had started to enjoy Trollface's company. The grave seemed less foreboding with him there. The comebacks he would plant during his call and the sheer asshat-ery they indulged in was pleasant. Perhaps there was something to what Lucy said.

He watched her come back out, Desmond waddling behind him with the stuffed tiger dragging behind him and his thumb in his mouth. He pulled it out long enough to make a grabbing motion at Malik, and he scooped the boy up.

"Desmond says yes."

Malik smiled drily. It was amazing the innocence that was lost as adults. "Okay then, let's go have a picnic at the graves, and I'll tell Trollface I've forgiven him."

Lucy perked up. "And he can come live with us and be our daddy?"

Malik shook his head. "That might take a little longer. Grab the basket."

"What about the camera people?" she asked, and Desmond leaned against him, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, his tiger dangling from his other hand.

"Let's just try ignoring them today. Let them get their pictures, and be done with it, okay?"

"But what about the crazies?"

"I'll protect you: I promise. I could never let the two best people in my life be hurt."

Lucy smiled warmly and grabbed the basket, swinging it as they walked out. Before he opened the door, he had to take a deep breath and relax, not realizing the protective look he had when they entered the city. As they walked down the street, he saw several flashes from alleyways and cell phones, giving them all a warning glare when the photo went off. Lucy was dancing down the street.

"Can we go pick Kadar some flowers? And mommy?"

He tried his best to ignore the whispers from passersby, but the crawling feeling of paranoia was causing him to tense. He wished he could hide as simply as Desmond. "Sure thing. I think it's been a while since you've given him flowers, yes?"

Of course, the thick blanket of grey fog limiting his view probably didn't do much to quell his paranoia. Lucy was dancing around the first corner, eager to get to the park to pick the flowers. He snarled when he saw his girl come running back, felt her hug him and watched her bury her face in his side as a reporter woman came out of the fog.

"You're out! Tell me, Doctor Love—"

"Scare my child again, and I swear you'll see no love from me."

The woman backed off a step, looking surprised. He saw the cameraman emerge beside her. "M-my apologies… I didn't mean to."

He was bristling with distrust as she stood there awkwardly. "Well? Do you have questions or not? You'd better be able to walk quickly, because I've got shit to do."

He pushed past them and kept walking. Slowly, Lucy let go of him. He saw the reporter and the cameraman appear on his other side.

"Tell me, why have you been trying so hard to avoid the cameras?"

"Isn't it obvious? I don't want the attention."

"Why? Most people would kill to be this popular."

"Because with popularity comes stalkers and even more idiots than what I hear on the show."

"But many don't worry about those. There aren't many stories about celebrities getting killed."

"But there are enough. And that is all I need. Lucy, leave the basket here. Don't wander too far off: the fog makes me nervous."

"Okay!"

She ran off, and Malik watched her closely as he saw her flit about. When Desmond nuzzled closer and drew the tiger between them, he shushed him and tried to look at him.

"Tell me: why did you take this job then?"

"To be the be the voice of reason for some. I don't enjoy attention though. It's hard enough with just one arm, and that arm always being full."

She nodded. "Then why do you continue?"

"Because I make good money and can support the two kids."

"How did you happen across them?"

"I'm not giving you their life story."

He saw a figure squat down beside his girl, and he started walking toward it, only to stop when she hugged the figure.

"Who is that?"

Malik frowned and jogged toward her, surprised to see Trollface hugging Lucy. When she saw him, she waved, and Trollface looked over his shoulder, rising quickly when he saw Malik and stepping back.

"Look! It's Mister Trollface!"

The man frowned and looked at him. "You told them my name was Trollface?"

Malik shrugged. "It seemed appropriate."

"You don't even remember my name."

"I tried not to remember."

"Altair."

He frowned. "I still don't want to remember it—"

"Daddy!"

He looked at Lucy, who had a small handful of flowers. "What?"

"We talked about this earlier. Don't you have something to say to him?"

"No."

"Daddy!"

Malik sighed, defeated by his own daughter. "Altair, I'm not mad at you."

Altair looked cautious.

"I promise. I'm not sure how it happened, because I really hate idiots, and you're the worst of them all, but somehow, I've forgiven you."

He met Altair's gaze, and neither looked away when Lucy hugged Altair tightly.

"And now you can be our daddy, too, and come over all the time and eat dinner with us and play with us and read to us and—" She stopped and looked at him, excited. "Please?"

Altair looked down at her and lightly ran a hand through her hair. Malik was ready to attack if necessary. "I suppose."

Malik frowned, but his anger wasn't there. Altair looked back at him when Lucy screamed in victory. The cameraman was eating this up. Altair picked her up and let her cling to him as they stared each other down. The fog was starting to lift as they stared.

Lucy who broke the silence: "Are we going now? I wanna see mommy and Kadar."

Malik looked at her and nodded. "Of course. Are you coming, Trollface?"

Altair scowled and nodded. They walked in silence to the graveyard, Altair carrying Lucy and the basket, and Malik carrying Desmond. The woman chatted happily with Lucy.

"So tell me, how long have you known Doctor Love?"

She giggled. "Forever! He's old!"

Malik sighed when Altair smirked.

"And how old are you?"

"Seven and a half."

"How old is Desmond?"

"Two and half."

"Is he your brother?"

"He is now!"

"Do you enjoy living with the Doctor?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yeah! We get away with a lot of stuff."

"Lucy," Malik began, "why don't you stop telling her that, or else I'll have all kinds of people think I'm a softie. And I can't have that."

They entered the small graveyard as the fog lifted. Altair and Lucy set up the picnic, and Desmond watched them from Malik's arm. He was watching his daughter fondly, and he cast a glance over his shoulder to see the cameraman and the reporter a ways off. When they settled down on the blanket, Desmond sat in his lap, and Malik couldn't help but smile softly.

"I missed you, Kadar, but I hope you like our new family."

The day passed quickly as they picnicked, and Malik found himself on his back by the end of the day with Desmond standing on his feet. He had both of the kid's hands in his, and was laughing when he squealed as Malik would bend his legs and pop them back up. Eventually, he slipped, and Desmond crashed into Malik's chest, winding him briefly before two bright brown eyes were staring at him, inches from his face, and Malik ruffled his hair, laughing.

Desmond stood, grabbed his tiger's paw, and waddled off after Lucy, who was picking wild dandelions and occasionally bringing them over and decorating the grave or Altair. The man had chains of flowers around his neck and head, and several poking out at odd angles in his clothes. When the cameraman came closer, before he could deck the man, Altair spoke:

"Robert is dead."

Malik looked at him, frowning. "Good. And the others?"

"Addicted to drugs. I haven't contacted the other."

Malik bowed his head so Lucy could put a chain of flowers on him. His mind flashed to images of the trial from years ago. He was just released from the hospital, and Robert's parents had hired the best lawyer around. Altair and the two other passengers had gotten away with community service and treatment for alcohol addiction, and Robert, who had been driving, got several years in prison. Justice was nothing more than a game for lawyers to win, and Robert's lawyer had definitely won.

He didn't actually remember much about that night, other than waking up in a hospital, his arm gone and his brother dead. He knew he and his brother had been making a grocery run since they had been roommates and run out of the honey buns Kadar enjoyed so much. He figured that they had been listening to pop music since every time he heard the cheerful music, he got depressed and angry.

Now, staring at the man who had been in the car who had gotten away with so much, all he could do was appreciate him. Without the loss of Kadar, he wouldn't have agreed to do the radio station. Without the grave, he wouldn't have bought the flowers. Without the loss of his arm, he never would've appreciated everything he could now do. Altair's gaze met his as Desmond came waddling up, his tiger dragging behind him. He settled in Malik's lap and hugged the tiger close. Malik looked at him briefly and kissed his head as he stuck his thumb in his mouth. Those bright brown eyes looked at him, and he smiled softly.

"Love you, daddy."

"I love you, too, Desmond."

Desmond smiled around his thumb and settled back into his lap. Malik glanced at Altair again and had to stop his jaw from dropping in surprise at the pained look he had. Shifting so he could reach across the blanket, he set his hand a small distance from Altair. His eyes flickered to the hand, then met his gaze again.

"I told you: I have forgiven you."

Altair nodded. "I know. You have said."

"Then why do you—"

"Mister Trollface!" Lucy shouted.

They both looked and watched as she ran to the man. She stopped and smiled.

"You are moving in with us, right?"

Malik blinked. "That's quite an assumption, Lucy."

"What is?"

"And when was it decided that he would move in with us?"

He blinked again. "It's my house. I say he won't."

"It's our house," Lucy said, stomping her foot. "And I want more daddies. Please?"

"There is no way I'm letting strangers move in with me. That house is hardly big enough for the three of us, and there is only one spare room. What happens when you and Desmond need different rooms?"

"Desmond sleeps with you, and I get the room!"

"And if Altair moves in, where will he sleep?"

"On the couch! Or! We could get that cool bunk bed thing with the big mattress below and the small mattress above! And then, Dessie could get the bunk, and you and Altair could get the bottom!"

Malik smirked. "I like the idea of him on the couch."

Lucy put her hands on her hips. "No, that's bad for him. All his bones will get achy and creaky like mommy's when she slept on the couch."

"An even better—"

"No. Now that I know we can give him something better, you should do that."

Malik raised an eyebrow. "What if I don't want to live with the man that killed my brother?"

Lucy frowned. "It will help you learn to live with him. He may be old, but he's not going anywhere for a long time."

Malik and Altair looked at each other, then back to his daughter. "Are you sure?"

"If he's here every time you are, then you might as well get used to him. Besides," she grabbed his open side's shoulder sleeve and tugged, "you said you'd get me another daddy!"

"I said nothing of the sort," he snapped.

"Yes, you did!" she whined, stomping her foot.

"I asked if you wanted another person to live with us."

"See? I told you!" She was pouting, and Malik frowned.

"Lucy, this man is not living—"

"Yes! Yes, he is!"

"Will I have to put you to bed early tonight?"

Lucy's eyes grew wide, and she scowled and stomped her foot again. Malik sighed.

Yet, three months later, he found himself moving Altair into the guest bedroom. As he looked at the few boxes, he had no idea how he had been persuaded, but he had the idea it was all Lucy's doing. She was happy digging through the boxes, trying her best to help Altair settle in as he watched from the doorway.

"It's not my fault," Altair said, looking at him.

"Yes, it is," he snapped, scowling.

"If it's any consolation, I was stopped by a team of reporters today."

Malik smirked, feeling a small victory. He knew the man was quiet by nature, and after the footage from the graveyard had been released, they had pestered him for more answers, since Malik had giving them a resolute, "No."

He felt a tug on his pant leg and looked to see Desmond hold up his tiger, a tear in it. He nodded and took the tiger carefully, walking out into the small living room to fetch the sewing kit he kept. Desmond had settled beside him, sitting in his lap. He pulled out the needle and thread and began stitching. He was good for having one arm, and by the time he was done, Desmond was asleep in his lap, one arm dangling precariously as he held onto one of the tiger legs and the other falling down Malik's chest, still curled to suck his thumb, his mouth open slightly.

He tucked the tiger into his boy's arm and watched the other wrap around to hold it tightly. He smiled softly when the boy shifted. A smear of papers was scattered across the coffee table: the result of the book he was publishing and co-authoring with Altair. A few requests for interviews were falling off, and Malik intended to decline, even though "Doctor Love" was more popular than ever. He looked up to see Altair walking in with Lucy in his arms, asleep as well from all the unpacking and excitement, and he watched as he sat beside him on the couch.

"You're a lucky man to have these kids," Altair murmured.

"They are no longer just mine. You live here, too."

"But you will always be their savior."

And as the sun set, the last rays of light found the two kids asleep in their guardians' arms, one of the older men leaning against the other, his unprotected side covered by his partner as they slept on the couch.

* * *

><p><strong>Malik is the Doctah of LURRRRRRV.<strong>


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